Pete McMartin: Dear Dad, your daughter sends this message

Two weeks ago, I got an email from Paula Antil, who is 39, who lives in Kitsilano and who is an assistant film director — so you need not ask her how she feels about the present provincial government.

She is the daughter of Tom and Jane Antil, formerly of Minnesota and, following that, Aldergrove. Tom and Jane now live in the West End.

This was not Paula’s first email to me. She wrote to me two years ago about her dad, asking me if I was interested in doing a story on him. At the time, an art show was being held in the West End, and her dad, who had taken up art late in life, had one of his paintings chosen as the illustration for the show’s advertising poster. She was bursting with pride about him — which was touching, but thin ground to base a column on — so (according to Paula, since I had completely forgot about it) I wrote her back saying I was under the weather and that I would get back to her. I did not. Probably, I was not under the weather, either.

Anyway, after I received this second email from her, I phoned her up and we talked about her family: that she is one of four siblings, one boy and three girls; that her mother is so petite that one of her father’s employers once referred to her as her father’s “child bride”; that her father walks 10 kilometres a day, can still beat her at tennis (“Which sucks,” she said) and that her father is “a Renaissance man.”

It was because of her father that I phoned Paula. Like her first email to me two years ago, her most recent email was about him also.

Here is that email:

“Dear Mr. McMartin,

“A few years ago, I wrote to you about my dad. I am sure you get daughters writing in about their fathers all the time. We tend to have a special bond. One night my dad came into my local (pub) to say hi and share a pint during a Canucks game, the bartender introduced himself saying, ‘Hi I’m your future son-in-law.’ My dad looked him up and down and said in a way only a father could, ‘Not if my daughter has anything to say about it.’

“My dad turns 70 on March 13, and very shortly afterwards he and my mother will celebrate their 45 wedding anniversary. Big Year, and I would like to give him the perfect gift … It would be one of your columns.

“My mom and dad came over from Minnesota in 1967, draft dodgers. No one wanted to hire Americans, so my dad begged for teaching jobs up and down the Lower Mainland and Fraser Valley, finally securing a job at Aldergrove secondary school, after he promised he would coach both the basketball and football teams after school hours. And he did for 35 years, he also raised four kids, all of whom went on to post-secondary educations. Not being busy enough in the 1980s and 90s he added university coach to his life, taking on the University of the Fraser Valley men’s basketball team.

“And then he retired.

“But see this is when the story gets good. My dad retired only to start working harder than ever. But now he works on pursuing his own dream of being an artist. He paints forty hours a week. Last year he grossed over $20,000 dollars, selling originals, prints, cards and painting commissions. Last year, he even painted a commission for Christine Day, CEO of Lululemon. He actually had no idea who she was when he was being commissioned, I had to tell him. I also told him her salary as published in The Province last year. His only response, after a long silent delay, ‘I should have charged her more money.’

“In this really odd culture, where so many people think if their dreams aren’t realized by the time they’re 30 or at the latest 40, that they should just give up, my dad is an inspiration.

“He’s also a super cool dude, loves the Canucks and his red wine. You two will probably meet and be best friends forever. And if you write the article, not only will you make me the greatest daughter in the history of the planet, but you will for sure get a free painting.”

“Please consider it. Yours truly,

“Paula Antil”

A few things about Paula’s email:

One, I do not get emails all the time from daughters writing to me about their dads, as Paula thought. The only emails I have ever got from daughters writing to me about their dads were from Paula.

Two, Paula’s dad was right: The bartender in the pub never did become his son-in-law.

Three — and this is directed to Paula — I cannot accept your offer of a free painting. Your email was enough in the way of payment.

And four — and this is directed to Tom — Happy Birthday to you. You are a rich and lucky man. Your daughter has given you the greatest gift in the world, and it isn’t this column.

We encourage all readers to share their views on our articles and blog posts. We are committed to maintaining a lively but civil forum for discussion, so we ask you to avoid personal attacks, and please keep your comments relevant and respectful. If you encounter a comment that is abusive, click the "X" in the upper right corner of the comment box to report spam or abuse. We are using Facebook commenting. Visit our FAQ page for more information.